Wrestlers muse
by Mascalzone Latino
Summary: Two wrestlers muse over one night that changed their lives forever PG to be on the safe side.
1. Muse 1

A/N: All WWE superstars mentioned in this piece of fiction are the property of the WWE; however, their souls may belong to me. I am writing this purely for pleasure, not profit. Hell, if you sue me, you won't get a lot. I'm a poor student ;)

I'm standing at the hotel room window, a glass of red wine in my hand. This is something that I tended to do a lot before - when I had company usually - and more often than not, I would find myself on the bed in no time at all. Tonight, though, I'm standing at the window, not really focusing on anything in the distance. I'm not thinking about what I would normally be doing right about now. I'm thinking about who would normally be standing beside me and now is not.

It's a cruel twist of fate, when I think about it. I had to watch from the sidelines for the best part of five months, wondering if I would be accepted by the two of them again. They had challenged for the tag team titles but hadn't been successful and my reasoning is that that was because they were French. We're not that bad! Really, we're not!

But I digress.

I had spent five months on the sidelines, wondering if I would be able to summon up the courage to step foot in a WWE ring again, wondering if I would be accepted by the rest of the guys and girls on the Raw roster. Just wondering, really. Wondering about anything I could wonder about. With all the wondering I had done, I had been expecting to find a grey hair or several hundred but, alas, there is none, and I am grateful for that.

Another sip of the wine and I'm reliving Raw all over again. I had made my return the previous week and then we all found out about this draft lottery. Of course, I was nervous about it but I had been reassured that all would be fine. That we would stick together. That we would be the force we were before my injury.

I guess you could say that that plan went down the toilet tonight.

He was the first one to be drafted and we were all stunned. I felt as if I was in a bad dream and all I needed was for someone to pinch me for me to wake up and realise that he was still there with us. But it was a bad dream. And he wasn't with us. And he wouldn't be.

Do they even know what I am going through right about now? Hell, do they even care? Do they even care about the fact that there are several people who are now in the same position as me, wondering what they did to deserve to be treated like this? I know I'm definitely wondering what I did to deserve being alone in a hotel room with only - at this point of time anyway - a bottle of wine for company. I might just drink myself stupid tonight, to temporarily forget about the pain I am currently experiencing. But I know that it's highly likely that during the process of drinking myself stupid tonight, I will end up thinking about all the things we had done before and probably wouldn't do again. Well, at least not with each other, hehe.

I suppose they had their reasons for splitting us up. Maybe they thought that we were holding him back. Maybe we were. I don't know. Still, there's a part of me that would like to know why he was drafted and there's a part that wouldn't like to know. I'm torn between wanting to know and not wanting to know.

As I look around the room, I can see something that he left behind and I smile a little. It's only a little thing but enough to make me think of him yet again. Him and all the things that we would get up to, even though he was underage. 21 is a stupid age to be legally able to drink alcohol, now that I think about it.

Tomorrow is a new day and the first full day without him. Something I'll have to get used to, whether I like it or not. I don't like it and that should be obvious. But something good may come out of this so I guess I really shouldn't complain. I'm still here, I still have a job and I'm doing what I love. And yes, that does include drinking.

I get to go home tomorrow. Home won't quite be the same now, especially without him. But I will be able to make some new memories and relive the old ones over and over. Especially when drinking a fine bottle of red wine.

With that thought in mind, I set about finishing the bottle before going to bed. A new day, some new memories to be made.

Not exactly my best effort but what do you expect when I'm not feeling too well? If I have time, I may end up rewriting this.


	2. Muse 2

This sucks.

A simple statement yet it seems to sum up my feelings about the situation I am currently in.

It sucks.

Just over a week ago, he returned, hence us returning to the force we were before he was injured. We were all happy until the announcement about the draft lottery. Then we spent the rest of the night worrying about it, even after I had been attacked by Stone Cold after standing up to him. This was only after he issued us with a ticket after Fifi was supposedly crapping all over the place. He obviously didn't care that Fifi had too much class to do such a thing.

Throughout the following week, I did find myself worrying about the draft lottery and if we would be staying together or being split up. Whenever that thought entered my mind, I quickly banished it from there, only to have it enter again at some later point.

Then that night came.

We were sitting there, talking about what we thought would happen that night and I found that I was extremely nervous as Paul Heyman pulled out a name from the barrel. My nerves went even more as he laughed and proclaimed to Eric Bischoff that he was so terribly sorry for splitting up one of the premiere groups on Raw. I immediately thought Evolution and allowed myself a small smile.

When he called out my name, I was stunned. Stunned and upset. I bid farewell to my now former tag team partners, knowing that they were both as stunned and upset about this as I was. I went out to meet Heyman, armed with the French flag, had my photo taken with him and proceeded to march down to the ring, where I demanded a final match on Raw. I wanted to go out with a victory but I went out with a loss and that was followed by a stunner.

Afterwards, I sat in the SmackDown! locker room, wearing the blue t-shirt, thinking that I didn't belong there and that blue wasn't my colour. I wanted to go back to the Raw locker room, back to what I was used to. But I knew that it was highly unlikely that it wouldn't happen. They had their reasons for drafting me to SmackDown! and here I am.

It's moments before I go out there and make my SmackDown! debut. I'm nervous about it - of course I would be - and I'm wondering what kind of reaction I'd get from the fans. Knowing them, it will be the same as before - boos, jeers and people telling me that I need soap. Yeah. I need soap like they need people telling them that they are barbarians.

As I make my way out of my locker room, I can't help but think about my former tag team partners and what opportunities will await them. I'm hoping that they end up with the tag team gold at some stage and I'll be arrogant here and say that I am hoping for some gold as well. The US championship, the WWE championship … it doesn't matter, as long as it's gold.

I might still be annoyed about being split from them but I know that I should look on the bright side of this. I will be travelling with new people, seeing new places, doing new things. Making new enemies too, I suppose.

New experiences. I shouldn't complain about that.


End file.
